


Once Upon a December

by MoonGirl1155 (orphan_account)



Category: Anastasia (1997), Guardians of Childhood & Related Fandoms, Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Anastasia, Bunny and Jack argue, Bunny is in denial about his feelings, Everyone Being an Asshole, F/M, Gen, Human E. Aster Bunnymund, Hurt/Comfort, Jack is in denial about his feelings, M/M, Man in the Moon Being an Asshole, Nightmares, North ships it, North ships it so much, Pitch Black Being an Asshole, even though they clearly love each other, like a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 15:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4751234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/MoonGirl1155
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack, an orphan with amnesia, is unknowingly the lost frost prince of Russia. Tsar Lunar is offering a reward to anyone who can find his grandson, and Aster is eager to con his way into winning a mountain of money. Jack is the ideal actor to play the prince... maybe too perfect for the part.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once Upon a December

The year was 1916, and the Frost family reigned as supreme rulers of all Imperial Russia. The upper class resided in a world of luxury and lavish parties, like the one that took place on a very fateful night... a horrible, bloody night.

Of course, no one could have predicted the massacre that would occur that same evening. Especially not Jackson, the grandchild of the Tsar. He was too busy dancing with Katherine, his mother, or at least trying to. His turquoise suit hampered him from making any graceful movements and his shoes were crimping his toes. His arms were constantly getting tangled in his silver sash.

Jackson could barely keep himself from tripping, and if he were any other eight year old boy, he would be miserable. What young lad would want to attend an uptight royal ball? But Jackson Overland Frost wasn't one to allow some stuffy clothing to ruin a party. He continued to dance with his mother, even though he was failing miserably. But he was having fun, and that was all that mattered. Katherine lifted the giggling boy and spun him around, and he caught the eye of his grandfather mid-twirl. The smiling Tsar waved and Jackson stuck out his tongue obnoxiously before returning to his unsuccessful dancing attempt.

Empress Katherine couldn't keep up with her son's energy and passed him over to his father, Nightlight. He was a quiet man who rarely spoke, but he could express his intentions and affections in various ways, without words.

"Papa!" Jackson beamed up at his father and he was hoisted up onto the Emperor's shoulders. They then proceeded to terrorize all of the guests. Most people laughed at the sight of the young prince and his father causing chaos together. They could get away with anything, being directly related to the Tsar and all.

But Nightlight unfortunately had duties to attend to, and Jackson scurried off to find someone else to have fun with.

"Manny!" the blue-eyed boy exclaimed and rushed up the throne steps next to his grandfather. The Tsar smiled warmly at the boy as they embraced.

"That was quite a ruckus you were making, Jackson. I thought Sasha was going to have a cow!" Manny pointed out, and the child grinned mischievously.

"That was the point, Manny! She's so snobby," Jackson replied, and the elder pretended to scold the boy.

"Tsk, tsk...don't say those things about your relatives...," he chided. The young prince rolled his eyes and groaned.

"Manny!" he whined. The Tsar chuckled, the sound vibrating deep in his chest.

"I know, I'm just teasing...don't take everything so seriously, Jackson," he answered and the two laughed.

After the eight-year-old's laughter ceased, his pale face took on an expression of sadness. "I'm going to miss you so much..."

"I will miss you as well," the Tsar answered, his smile faltering for a moment.

"I wish you could just stay here..." Jackson sighed, and then his sapphire eyes lit up as an idea popped into his brain, "It would be so much fun! We could go sledding and ice skating! Oh, and build snowmen! Please, don't go back home!"

Tsar Lunar smiled faintly. It was unfortunate that he didn't get to spend more time with his grandson, due to the fact that they resided in different countries, but there was nothing to be done. He had to live in France and Jackson had to stay with his parents in Russia. Manny ruffled the young boy's white, fluffy hair with affection.

"I'm sorry, my boy. But I have to return to Paris…you know that, right?" Manny frowned when the boy looked down. The sight of seeing the child so disappointed was upsetting. He reached out and lightly lifted his grandson's chin.

"Don't look so sad, Jackson," he advised, but the little boy's face continued to hold a pouting expression. Tsar Lunar heaved a great sigh.

"You know what, I've got something to show you. It'll put a smile on that face of yours," Manny declared, and the prince perked up.

"A surprise?" he inquired curiously, and his grandfather nodded. He reached into the pocket of his lavish fur coat and revealed a small, round blue box. The exterior was decorated in royal blue crystals and sparkling white snowflakes. Jackson's eyes widened in awe as he gently fondled the mysterious treasure.

"Wow..." he marveled, momentarily forgetting his dismay. Manny grinned and handed his grandson a silver chain with a pendant on the end. The boy furrowed his eyebrows in concentration as he examined the glittering object. There was a blue circle with a snowflake painted in the center. Lining the charm were the words:

"Together...in...Paris..." Jackson read carefully, and then beamed with excitement.

"You really mean that, Manny?!" he asked, barely able to contain his joy. Tsar Lunar nodded encouragingly, and the young prince tackled him in yet another hug.

All was well.

Or so it seemed.

 

* * *

 

Years ago, a man had walked freely through the palace halls, just as he did now. He had been a general in the Russian army; the highest possible ranking officer minus the Tsar. He was showered with medals of valor and relished in his victories. Then, one day, he was discovered to be a fraud. A traitor. He was stripped of his titles. Tsar Lunar had cast him out immediately, banishing him from ever returning to Russia. Angry, betrayed, and consumed with a desire for vengeance… he sold his soul to acquire the powers of darkness. With his newfound abilities, he spread fear everywhere in his wake.

His name was Kozmotis Pitchiner.

He meandered down the vacant halls of the palace, his feet making soft padded noises against the ivory tile. The entire building was intricately decorated and coated in profuse amounts of precious gold and silver. What had the Lunars done to deserve such wealth? Kill?

He knew them to be capable of committing such crimes.

Pitch opened the doors that he knew led to the grand ballroom, and grinned.

He was going to return a favor.

 

* * *

 

Aster chomped down on a carrot, leaning against the marble banister behind the throne platform. He was only ten years old and wasn't mature enough to fulfill his servant duties, especially when there was a celebration going on. The kitchens where hectic on nights like this, and he preferred to avoid the madness.

He observed the nobility with envious disdain. He wished that he was as rich as them, then maybe he wouldn't have to scrub dishes until his fingers bled. Maybe he wouldn't be so ravenous all the time.

Aster swallowed another chunk of carrot and his emerald eyes watched as the prince ran up towards the Tsar. He hoped that the kid wouldn't see him, if he did, then he would be in huge trouble.

Servants weren't supposed to be seen or heard, as he was often reminded.

Jackson wasn't smart enough to grasp that concept, and said hello to the kitchen boy on multiple, punishable occasions.

Aster finished his carrot and sucked on his fingers. He wasn't as starving as some of the street rascals he knew, but that didn't mean he wouldn't appreciate every morsel he could get his paws on.

Jackson was given a present, something shiny and undoubtedly pricy. A few grateful hugs later, Aster could hear the sound of a music box and the prince singing. Quietly, but he was still singing.

Aster might not fawn over the kid like everyone else in the palace (the entire nation seemed to adore the child as well) but he had to admit… the little devil could sing. He sounded like a bloody angel whenever he opened that mouth of his.

Jackson crooned softly and beamed up at his grandfather. The Tsar returned the child's heartfelt gaze, and they hugged. _Again._

Aster bet that no one in the country received as much adoration as the prince did.

Jackson caught his eye, discovering his hiding spot behind the column, but before the boy could wave Aster was gone.

 

* * *

 

At first, only the guests near the door noticed his presence, but awareness of the man in black spread through the room like a wildfire. Soon everyone had ceased dancing and huddled together in fear. The lights dimmed and darkness shrouded all.

Oh, what a wonderful sight it was.

Pitch strode across the dance floor, the trembling nobles cowering away and creating a path for him, straight to the Tsar. He relished in the anger on his enemy's face.

Tsar Lunar jumped to his feet as soon as he saw the former war officer, and marched towards the traitorous man. His hands were clenched tightly together and his eyes burned with rage. He could melt anyone under his furious gaze.

But not Pitch, apparently.

" _How dare you,_ " Tsar Lunar growled, his voice low and threatening. The revolting man before him simply smirked in response.

"How dare you!" his booming voice echoed throughout the hall, his features contorted into fury, "You were banned from ever returning to this place. Leave at once before I make you regret the moment you were brought into this world!"

Pitch barely even blinked. Instead, he unclasped his gaunt hands from behind his back and examined his fingernails. His gray skin was coated almost entirely with… black sand? The ominous substance swirled around his fingertips and the Tsar's livid expression faded to a warily confused one. What form of trickery was this? Did Pitch truly possess dark magic?

"I believe you are mistaken, your highness," the silky words dripped bitterly from his raven lips. No one could miss the malice behind them.

"I am going to be the one make _you_ regret," his golden orbs gleamed with maleficence, and a wave of dread washed over the Tsar as their eyes locked. He knew that Pitch had something dangerous up his sleeve, and he didn't want to find out.

Unfortunately, the Tsar had no choice.

Darkness exploded. He was knocked off his feet and hurled into the air. He crashed onto the floor with a thud at the foot of the throne steps. Sounds of panic and alarm filled the air, mingling with the stench of fear. But no one moved to assist the Tsar. Why? They were roped off to the sides of the room with walls of onyx sand. He scanned the crowd and spotted his son, Nightlight. He was attempting to break through the barrier and reach him. Katherine was clutching Jackson to her chest, shielding his eyes from the violence.

Pitch sauntered towards him with an expression of satisfaction. Tsar Lunar climbed to his feet and unsheathed his sword, the metal glowing with the radiant light of the moon.

"Leave now or suffer the consequences!" the ruler thundered, ready to slice the traitor to bits. The complacent grin on Pitch's face faded; his rage had reached its boiling point.

 _“You_ are going to suffer!" he spat, and took a step back, outstretching his arms. Blackness spilled from his fingers and pure, liquid terror drowned the hearts of everyone in the palace.

"All of you! Your entire family! You and your kin will burn in the depths of hell for all eternity! I will not rest until every last drop of your blood is spilt, and you!" the screaming madman lowered his gaze and shivers raced down the Tsar's spine.

"You will be the last to go. You will suffer as I have suffered," Kozmotis Pitchiner promised, and then vanished into the shadows.

The treacherous sand dissipated, and Tsar Lunar's heart throbbed painfully for a long moment.

Then the true horror arrived, a cacophony of gunshots and screams, and he found himself regretting the day he laid a finger on Emily Jane.

 

* * *

 

Nightlight rushed into action the moment the sand disappeared, summoning his diamond tipped spear. He knew that Pitch was long gone, but another threat was in the castle. The staff members were being massacred downstairs in the kitchen, and soon they were to be slaughtered as well.

Nightlight wasn't going down without a fight.

Katherine clutched at his sleeve, her horrified eyes wide and pleading.

"Go," he ordered, clasping her hand tightly for a brief moment. She opened her mouth to protest but he kissed her softly, quickly, begging for her to leave without him. Tears cascaded down her rosy cheeks and she nodded in compliance.

Nightlight felt a tug on his pant leg and smiled weakly down at his son. Jackson was sobbing, terrified and confused. He had no idea what was going on. His father leaned down and pressed his lips gently against the boy's forehead.

"Take care of your mother, Jackson," Nightlight instructed, and then straightened himself. The intruders were almost here. The party guests surrounding them were frantically rushing for the exits.

"Run!" Nightlight shouted, and his wife and son vanished into the crowd without a trace.

He returned his attention to the main doors of the ballroom. Others were rallying behind him, prepared for a fight to the death. He noticed that his father was not among them. Pitch had probably scared him off. Nightlight didn't have time to feel ashamed of the Tsar's cowardice. The men around him didn't have guns, but his confidence didn't waver.

There was a reason his family ruled Russia. They were… special, in a way. He clutched his spear with both hands and his entire being began to glow.

The door burst open, and Nightlight erupted into a ball of energy and light. The men standing behind him collapsed, shot on sight, but the Emperor took down several enemies at once. He fought like an animal, desperate to save his own life and his family, but in the end...

In the end, what use is one man against a hundred guns?

Everyone around him was lying in a pool of blood. His face was shoved against the maroon tiles, defeated, and he whispered Katherine's name as the gun went off.

 

* * *

 

Jackson was awfully confused, mostly scared, and overwhelmed with the sense that this was the end. Was he ever going to see his father again? His mother was crying as she led him through the palace halls, and the shrieks behind them grew louder. She dragged him into a vacant room to hide, hoping that the killers wouldn't bother to check it. The castle had hundreds of rooms… they wouldn't search all of them, right?

Katherine was wrong.

She heard them approaching and panic squeezed her heart so tight that she could barely breathe. Any moment now, they were going to open the door and they were going to be shot...

"Your majesty!" a voice whispered loudly, making her flinch. She whipped her head around and found a servant boy gesturing towards a secret paneled door. His green eyes were filled with urgency as he ushered the Empress and the prince inside the passageway.

"Thanks, Aster," the kitchen boy heard the prince say as he sealed the door shut. He smiled faintly and then spun around as the revolutionaries burst through the main door. Aster narrowed his eyes and threw the first thing he could find, a lamp, at the man who approached him. Angry, the renegade whacked him in the head with the butt of his bayonet.

The world went dark, consumed by blackness.

 

* * *

 

The winter wind slapped her cheeks and turned her nose cherry red, but nothing could stop her from fleeing. Her brunette locks blew into her face but she didn't bother to brush them away; she barely noticed. Katherine ran faster than she knew possible, practically carrying her son with her. Her desperation to survive drove her to press on as they raced across the frozen surface of the river.

"Come on Jackson, just a little farther," she galvanized, glancing down at her son. He was so young… she dimly noted that he might catch a cold in this weather without a coat. He might be frostbitten, but she preferred a fingerless son over a dead one.

Katherine prayed to every deity she knew of for her child to survive the night.

Little did she know, they were being watched.

"They're getting away..." Pitch scowled, muttering to himself. He was standing on the bridge, observing the retreating forms of the Empress and the prince with contempt. His curse was going to be completed, one way or another.

Pitch leapt down from the bridge, landing on the ice with all the skill and grace of the war general he once was. Katherine halted abruptly, her sapphire eyes widening in terror at the sight of He-who-had-brought-forth-the-bloodshed. He had triggered the massacre with his curse to end the Tsar's bloodline. Her bloodline. In a protective manner, she instinctively pulled Jackson behind her. Her action didn't evade Pitch, however, and his lips curved in amusement.

"There's no point, your majesty," the man teased her with the title as he stepped closer. Katherine went rigid and her mind raced, trying to formulate a plan. She had to defend her child...

"Every last drop of blood, remember?" Pitch repeated a line from his dreaded curse, his horrible yellow eyes gleaming with sadistic lust. His desire to destroy her kin was clearly evident in those golden pools, and nothing was going to prevent him from destroying them.

Katherine was unarmed, alone, and defenseless. However, she refused to submit to the fate the curse foretold and continued to search for a way out. She couldn’t turn back, an army of rebels were probably hunting her down at this very moment, and Pitch was blocking her path. She wasn’t physically capable of fighting him… was she? She could try.

The Empress was so wrapped up in her scheming that she neglected to notice the shadows that were crawling ever closer…

She spotted the tendrils of darkness too late, just as her son was snatched away from her.

“Jackson!” she screamed his name and lunged towards him, wrangling to pry him from the shadow’s clutches. Her efforts were fruitless, and the darkness handed her child off to the cackling man.

“Let me go!” Jackson was screeching at a volume that should have burst Pitch’s eardrums, but the piercing sound didn’t faze him. He dangled the boy by the collar of his shirt while he thrashed about, panicked. Katherine felt a tidal wave of adrenaline flood her veins and she hurtled herself at the man, prepared to rip him to shreds for hurting her son.

But what she wasn’t prepared for was the deafening crack that erupted from the ice as soon as she lurched forward. She lost her footing but managed to wrench Jackson out of Pitch’s grasp and push him out of the way.

The ice broke under the combined weight of two adults, and she tumbled into the freezing water. She managed to latch onto Pitch, and he sunk to the bottom of the river with her. Her eyes cut through the murky depths and observed that her son was safe above water.

Katherine would’ve smiled if her heart hadn’t stopped just then.

 

* * *

 

That night, the Tsar hopped on a train and fled to Paris. By the time he arrived at his personal estate, the news had already spread across all of Europe. The frozen nation had rebelled. The Russian Revolution was well underway. Everyone in his family was dead, there was no doubt about that.

Nightlight, Katherine, Jackson… gone. Even Sasha, for Moon’s sake!

If only he had stayed…

Guilt consumed him and he collapsed on his bedroom floor, sobbing. He should have tried to save his family. He should have stifled his cowardice.

If only he had never touched Emily Jane.

 

* * *

 

That night, Jackson thought he was going to die.

The feeling that each second could very well be the last is something that no child should ever experience, but there he was. The shadow monsters seized him and he screamed louder than he thought possible. He continued to shriek when the scary man suspended him; he screamed because his youthful mind knew that the bad man wanted to hurt him, and just like any other kid, he was afraid of getting hurt.

Jackson had never been so terrified in his entire life.

He did everything that a frightened child would do; shout, kick, and cry.

The only noise that rose above the sound of his squealing was the thunderous breaking of the ice.

He hadn’t known what was going on (he hadn’t known what was happening throughout most of the horrific night) and suddenly he was tossed into the air, almost weightlessly. He caught a glimpse of his mother’s disappearance and the golden eyes of the bad man as he vanished along with her.

Jackson Overland Frost, the son of the Emperor and grandson of the Tsar of Imperial Russia, landed on the ice with a painful thud, hitting his head and passing out instantly.

When he woke up, he had no recollection of anything. Anything at all.

The year was 1916.


End file.
